


Project Repo

by komorebirei, mireille (komorebirei)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chatting & Messaging, Humor, I don't know what to tag this, Luxy, M/M, Not Beta Read, Reluctant Friendship, Romance, i guess, partly crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24359110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komorebirei/pseuds/komorebirei, https://archiveofourown.org/users/komorebirei/pseuds/mireille
Summary: When XY Roth picks up the lost fox miraculous, Viperion is tasked with retrieving it.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/XY (Miraculous Ladybug)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 23
Collections: Luxy Week 2020





	1. Eye Contact

**Author's Note:**

> Et voilà, here's my fic for Luxy Week. Day One: Eye Contact. This fic is causing me major anxiety. I'm not editing it much, since it's just for fun, so it might be terrible, but HERE, JUST TAKE IT.
> 
> Also: For the sake of this story, it's Post-S3, so the public knows the auxiliary heroes (Carapace, Viperion, Queen Bee)'s identities. The heroes all know each other's identities (including Ladybug and Chat Noir) but the public does not know Ladybug and Chat Noir's identities. So in theory, people know that Luka is Viperion, but XY doesn't keep up with current events so he doesn't know.

In the final three minutes of his grand finale song, XY smirks and whispers, “Mirage.”

The holographic unicorns onstage gain in substance, becoming even more realistic, and sprout wings before flying out toward the audience and showering them with an opulence of rainbow iridescent glitter.

The crowd oohs and ahhs, and XY watches smugly over his deck as he mimes rotating a record and sliding toggles (as if any of these doohickeys actually _does_ anything—it’s all for show) like the rightful king he is.

Until his eye snags on one person in the crowd who _isn’t_ smiling.

The offending guest is in the second row, and his blue-tipped hair immediately sends a wave of horror-tinged _annoyance_ rippling through every fiber of XY’s being. It’s Lance, or Luke, or whatever his name is—the loser who destroyed his papier-mâché mask and had the audacity to try to guilt-trip him for stealing the collège brats’ schtick.

XY hates the way he _obviously_ isn’t fooled or awed by the special effects. He hates that the other guy is effortlessly _better,_ even for a kid who’s probably still in school. He hates feeling exposed and seen. It’s annoying and it makes his skin crawl.

The Blue Loser is an eyesore, but XY can’t stop staring back at him for the rest of the performance, even after the magic transformation wears off and his fancy mask fades away, replaced with the cheap one his best roadie made out of marker and cardboard.

—

It’s a relief to finally be rid of Blue Loser’s glare when the concert ends. XY feels more tired than he usually does after standing onstage doing essentially nothing when he trudges to his dressing room and pushes open the door.

But, to his surprise, the room isn’t empty.

“You again,” XY grunts, immediately squaring his shoulders and shifting his legs into a dominant, wide stance. “How did you get in here?”

Blue Loser is leaning against the makeup counter, arms crossed, and he looks thoroughly pissed. XY bristles. What did he ever do to him to deserve that attitude?

“I have my ways,” Blue Loser answers, brow lowered. “But I’m not here to chat—you have something that doesn’t belong to you.”

“Pshaw,” XY dismisses, tossing his head. The weight of his plume arcing through the air gives him confidence. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t steal anything from you this time.”

“Surprisingly enough, I’m not talking about music.” Blue Loser springs off the counter and comes right up to XY, then jabs him in the chest. His index finger collides with the whorl of metal dangling from XY’s neck, nested within his signature diamond-encrusted XY bling, and presses it into his sternum. “I’m here to reclaim the fox miraculous.”

“What are you talking about?” XY rolls his eyes and looks disinterestedly into the corner of the room.

Blue Loser _probably_ glares harder, but XY can’t tell from where he’s looking. “You don’t have to bother playing dumb—you aren’t fooling me. Those special effects during the show obviously weren’t computer-generated, and I _know_ you were wearing a different mask before.” Blue Loser snatches the cardboard mask off XY’s face, and the elastic band snaps, whipping XY’s ears painfully.

“Ow!” XY cries, rubbing his ear and looking at Blue Loser in disgust. “You really gotta stop doing that, bud.”

Blue Loser wraps his hand around the fox miraculous and pulls, bringing XY’s face close to his. Uncomfortably close. Their noses are almost touching.

“I really just want to rip this off you right now,” Blue Loser seethes, “and I could if I wanted to. I _could_ trick you into giving it up. But you know what? Someone important to me taught me that it’s better to let people _choose_ to do the right thing, so I’m going to let you give it up yourself.”

XY almost laughs out loud. “You really think I’ll give this up? My shows are a riot now. I won the _lottery_ finding this thing. No one even cares if the music’s bad anymore—I can get away with anything. I’m on top of the _world.”_

Blue Loser chooses to ignore XY’s gloat. Instead, he rambles off on a lecture about right and wrong, higher ground, changing, blah blah. XY doesn’t know half the words, so he tunes it out.

“Yeah, yeah, are you done yet?” XY interrupts at one point.

This time, Blue Loser is so angry that he has no words, only a low growl. He lets go of the necklace, and XY notices belatedly that his neck hurts from the chain digging into it. He rubs the raw skin, feeling not at all sorry for ruffling Blue Loser’s feathers.

“I’m not done with you, Xavier-Yves,” Blue Loser says through clenched teeth.

“Actually, it’s XY.” He makes the accompanying hand sign, knuckles facing out, fingers split.

“I’m not calling you that,” Blue Loser insists.

“Too bad,” XY huffs. “You can’t be one of my peeps, then.”

Blue Loser makes a face of disgust. “I don’t want to be one of your— _people.”_

Ouch. _People._ XY’s ears hurt from how prim and proper it sounds. “Sucks for you, then.” He looks Blue Loser up and down. “You leaving yet? ‘Cause I really wanna change out of this costume.”

Blue Loser doesn’t move, he just glares… harmlessly. Pathetic. The sight makes XY’s lips curl in amusement. Seeing Blue Loser so angry is somehow gratifying—it means XY is still on top.

“Unless you wanna watch,” XY snorts, shrugging off his shimmering rainbow-sparkle jacket.

“NO.” Blue Loser throws his arms in front of his eyes as if shielding himself from the sight. “I don’t want to watch. Goodbye.”

He leaves.

XY feels strangely excited about the promise of future drama. There’s no way Blue Loser is going to get him to give up the magic necklace, but this should make life more interesting, at least.

—

 **pace urself:** dude wtf

 **polka dots:** you’re telling me you got INTO HIS DRESSING ROOM but you couldn’t get the miraculous?

 **v-major scale:** i tried grabbing it off him but you know miraculous don’t break  
**v-major scale:** and you try lifting a necklace over ~~ridiculously stupid~~ hair like that!!  
**v-major scale:** i used second chance 5 times to try and trick him into giving it up but i could NOT bear to spend any more time with that insufferable prick so i decided to try a different tactic

 **polka dots:** okay… i hope you know what you’re doing

 **queenie b:** only 5???? weak

 **v-major scale:** sorry chat i don’t have your endurance  
**v-major scale:** and @polka dots i’m kind of freestyling at the moment but i promise i’ll figure something out

 **pace urself:** ouch viper dude, yd u have to bring that up

 **schrodinger’s chat:** You mean my stupidity? -_-;

 **v-major scale:** chat, you weren’t stupid, just devoted (edited)  
**v-major scale:** i’m sorry for mentioning it

 **polka dots:** NAMES VIPERION!!

 **v-major scale:** sorry fixed

 **schrodinger’s chat:** No no no it’s okay, I’m over it!!!! I can joke about it now **  
** **schrodinger’s chat:** Anyway, I’m sure Viperion can handle this. Let’s just trust him on this, guys

 **v-major scale:** …  
**v-major scale:** thx chat

 **pace urself:** u got this dude

 **polka dots:** okay. one week.  
**polka dots:** do you need help?

 **queenie b:** ooooooh, periods, i’m scared

 **v-major scale:** i think i’ll be fine but i’ll let you know  
**v-major scale:** one week. challenge accepted


	2. Heroics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Team Miraculous aren't the only ones who've noticed XY has the fox miraculous—Hawkmoth has, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, number one: writing this is a challenge, because Luka actually has a thought process, but XY is so dense and unperceptive that I can't really write out that thought process, so it's only there by implication.
> 
> Number two: unfortunately, I'm going to have to finish this story next week, because I have a couple deadlines this week and can't afford to focus on Luxy. Sad story. This chapter is probably longer than the rest will be, but I can't actually promise anything because once I put these two together, they just keep talking and talking.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Screams trail down the hall, accompanied by a pattering of footsteps and an unnerving crackle-slither that makes XY’s skin crawl.

He picks up the fox kwami and shakes it. “It’s getting closer, you need to transform me!”

“Hey, stop that!” Trixx glares at him. “I told ya, I can’t. I need to eat! There’s gotta be something—chips, fries, popcorn, something.”

XY scratches his head. “Why do you need food? You’re magic!”

A strange creak precedes the appearance of green and brown under the door to the dressing room—roots and vines warping the wood of the door and causing the carpet to ripple.

“Hurry,” Trixx croaks weakly from XY’s fist.

XY looks frantically around the room, but there are no snacks. “I’m not allowed any snacks!” he murmurs, beginning to panic. “Oh my god, I’m gonna get trapped in here if you don’t help me. Transform me!”

“How many times are ya gonna try the same thing?” Trixx gripes. “They call that ‘insanity’.”

XY huffs. The kwami obviously has more energy than he lets on if he can complain with that much gusto.

“I’m tellin’ ya,” Trixx continues, “it’s not gonna work. I need  _ energy  _ to transform you.”

With a dramatic groan, the door swells concave, and the hinges pop off as it separates from the frame and collapses into the room with a crash.

XY lets out a high pitched scream, dropping Trixx. The moderately-sized dressing room has no window, so he has no choice but to use the door. Thankfully, it isn’t fully sealed yet—there’s enough space for him to escape. He dashes  _ toward  _ the rapidly growing vines, a whine of terror escaping his throat, and begins to scrabble over it, shuddering as he feels the living ropes shift beneath his feet.

“Don’t forget me!” Trixx cries from somewhere inside the room.

XY is tempted to leave the magic fox there—after all, he’s thousands of years old. He’ll surely survive and be safely waiting once Ladybug cleans everything up. At the last minute, a glimmer of fear that he’ll lose Trixx for good, along with his ability to create show-stopping illusions, makes him turn back.

The orange blob flies weakly toward him and falls at his feet—he scoops up the kwami and cradles him in his hands, gulping as he turns back toward the door. Vines are filling up the hall, and the door is almost entirely blocked.

“I’m gonna die,” XY whimpers, tremors running up his legs.

“No, you’re not,” says a voice from above.

For a moment, XY suspects divine intervention, but when he looks up, it’s only a superhero with a teal mask framed with teal-tipped locks, peering down from the ceiling where he’s shifted one tile to the side. Tiny fangs dip down over his cheekbones, and his suit—from what XY can see—appears to be covered in scales.

Relief floods XY’s body as he realizes it must be the snake hero, one of Ladybug and Chat Noir’s teammates.

“Help!” he implores, then lets out a squawk as one of the vines winds around his leg.

The snake hero flips down from the ceiling, stomping on the vine, which loosens slightly, enough for XY to shake his leg free. He jumps behind the snake hero, feeling more confident now that there’s someone more powerful around.

“So, you’re that snake guy,” he says.

“Viperion,” Viperion corrects. “Now be quiet—you’re distracting me.”

“Ruuuuude.”

Viperion ignores him and dashes toward the doorway, ripping off bundles of vines with his bare hands. His  _ bare hands. _ As he throws them aside, they writhe like worms before falling still.

_ Whoa, rad, _ XY thinks, but what he says out loud is, “Why don’t you just cut them?”

Viperion looks at him as if he’s said something incredibly stupid.

XY just shrugs, lifting one eyebrow and pulling down his lips in a  _ ‘What?’ _ expression.

“I don’t have a blade,” Viperion states dryly. “Plus, don’t you think I’m doing a good enough job of breaking them with my hands?”

“But—why use your hands? Don’t you guys all have weapons?” XY drawls. “What’s that thing on your belt? Aren’t the strings, like, razor-sharp or something?”

“No, they’re not,” Viperion answers only the last question, voice dripping with totally uncalled-for disgust.

XY narrows his eyes. What does this hero have against him, an innocent victim? “What is it good for, then?” he asks.

“It plays music, but I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that.” Viperion crosses his arms. Behind him, vines grow over the doorway, firmly sealing it closed. 

XY yelps as a new surge of greenery approaches, looming over Viperion’s left shoulder. “Ummm, snake boy?!” He points.

Viperion turns around, curses, and throws a turning jump-kick to send the assailing vine flying away from them, only to have ten more take its place. He notes the blocked doorway.

“This is your fault,” Viperion accuses, picking XY up effortlessly and swinging him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Whoa there!” XY cries. “Easy on the goods.”

“You’ve no right to complain. If you hadn’t distracted me, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Viperion growls, launching them into the ceiling cavity in a single leap.

XY is forced into silence as the repeated thumping of Viperion’s shoulder against his solar plexus makes it difficult to breathe. For a boy smaller than himself, Snake Boy is doing a pretty good job of hauling him around.

After a few minutes of this, the air changes—it’s colder, less oppressive, and the shuffling of their bodies echoes differently. XY lifts his hair, now limp and disheveled, out of his eyes, and raises his head.

The first thing he registers is that there is no floor under them, but rather, a narrow, dark chasm lined with orange utility lights. They’re in an elevator shaft.

XY’s stomach lurches as the distance of a potential fall sinks in. Memories of swaying on a plank affixed to the Eiffel Tower hundreds of meters above ground make his head swim. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream and reaches for the solid body under him, scrabbling for purchase against Viperion’s sleek suit.

“Stop wiggling—do you want me to drop you?!” Viperion cries, arm tightening around the backs of XY’s thighs.

“No no no no no no, don’t drop me, please, no,” XY blubbers, managing to wrap his arms around Viperion’s waist. “P-p-put me right-side-up, please! P-put me right side up!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down!” Viperion pulls XY’s legs downward with one hand, maintaining a grip on the thick elevator cables with his other.

Feeling his center of gravity right itself, XY wraps his legs around Viperion’s waist and hugs him tightly around the neck. He doesn’t even care that he’s koala-hugging another guy. This is a life-or-death situation.

_ “God, _ this is embarrassing,” Viperion mutters, beginning a quick descent.

XY doesn’t answer, burying his face into Viperion’s shoulder as he feels the air rush past his sides, roaring in his ears.

At long last, a thud indicates that Viperion has made contact with solid ground—or, the top of the elevator. “Okay, get off—switch to my back,” Viperion says.

“Whuh?” XY peeks out from his safe refuge.

“You can let go, it’s safe here.” Viperion peels his arms off and takes a step back.

“B-but we’re still in the building.” XY looks rapidly left and right. There may not be any immediate danger, but he definitely doesn’t feel safe yet. “Isn’t there an akuma on the loose? I thought you were supposed to save me!”

Viperion gives an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “I can’t run through the ceiling cavity with you…  _ in my arms.”  _ He says the last three words through grit teeth, as if it pains him to speak them. “So get on my back.” He turns around.

XY obeys without hesitation, latching onto Viperion’s neck and letting the hero hoist him up under the thighs in a piggy-back-ride. Back to safety. He closes his eyes. “Okay, get us out of here,” he says, digging his knees into Viperion’s sides.

“Do you think I’m a  _ horse?!  _ Maybe I should just leave you here.”

Viperion lets go, but XY clings tighter, staying on the superhero’s back only by virtue of his own strength.

“No, don’t leave me here! Sorry, okay? Just get us out of the freaking building!”

“Fine.” Viperion puts one hand behind his back, under XY’s rump, and begins moving again.

Daring to sneak a peek now and then, XY notices that Snake Boy is consulting a mini display on his instrument. It looks like a floor map from a video game, littered with flashing red lights, which probably isn’t a good thing.

The next thing XY knows, they’re emerging from the bowels of the building into what clearly  _ used  _ to be the lobby, but now looks like an indoor jungle. The walls and ceilings are covered in vines and plants, and in the center sits a large tree trunk that looks like it has grown straight up through the ceiling.

“There he is,” a familiar voice bellows, and XY notices that his father is held aloft near the ceiling in a thick coil of vine extending from the tree like an appendage. One hamlike finger points directly at XY.

“Ah ha!” says a high-pitched voice that’s abnormally loud, as if it’s coming out of speakers.  _ “You’re  _ the one he’s looking for!”

Over Viperion’s shoulder, XY sees someone in a brown-and-green costume that looks like weeping-willow branches trailing down, black hair turning into leaf-tipped vines.

_ “Leaf _ him alone, swamp monster,” Chat Noir taunts, jumping in front of the akumatized victim to distract them.

“Why are we here?” XY asks in a small voice. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to  _ avoid  _ the akuma?”

“Obviously, but we need to get out of the building and all the other exits are closed. ” XY feels Viperion’s arm lose contact with his backside. “Second chance,” he mutters, then the arm is back.

—

Both of Viperion’s hands come up and cover XY’s ears, but he can still hear his father’s voice.

“You can have it! Hell, you can have  _ him!  _ Just let me down!”

XY really shouldn’t be surprised, but his father’s willingness to give him up to save his own life still hits him in the gut like a sucker punch. He’s suddenly grateful that he has  _ someone  _ to protect him, even if that person treats him like a nuisance.

Viperion’s hands drop, and he pushes down on XY’s knees, which are still hoisted over the snake hero’s hips. “Get down for a minute,” he says in a tone that sounds more kindly than anything else he’s said yet.

XY obliges reluctantly, feeling shaky and nervous on his own feet. “W-w-wait, you’re leaving me here? Y-you’re giving me up, too?”

“No, I’m coming back. Stay right here, and don’t move.” Viperion brandishes a finger at XY, as if warning a dog to stay put.

“What are you doing, Viperion? Get him out of here!” Ladybug shouts across the lobby, spinning her yo-yo like a helicopter propeller to chop up the vines that the akuma launches in her direction. One of the vines, several meters off-course, smashes through the trunk of a smallish tree, uprooting and impaling it against the far wall.

“I will, he’ll be fine,” Viperion calls back. He throws his lyre boomerang-style at the vine holding Roth.

The vine doesn’t break, but it loosens momentarily, dropping the hefty man to the ground. He lands on what looks like a soft bed of greenery, rolls over, and sits up with a grunt.

In three paces, Viperion is at his side, but instead of helping him up, he gives the man a hearty slap across the cheek.

XY’s jaw drops open.

“That’s for throwing your son to the wolves,” Viperion spits, then storms back toward XY and grabs him around the wrist. “Follow me!” he urges.

XY needs no second bidding. Still replaying the slap in his mind, he follows closely behind Viperion, who shields his body as he uses a pointy tip of his lyre to crack open a windowpane, then hoists XY up and out of the building.

—

“You slapped my dad,” XY states once Viperion sets him down on a rooftop several blocks down.

Viperion pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. Once again, he looks frustrated. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What do you mean  _ you didn’t mean to?”  _ XY demands. It looked intentional to him. “I’m pretty sure you meant to.”

“I thought there was going to be another second chance!” Viperion raises his hands defensively. “We were in that loop for  _ two hours _ and I had to listen to that jackass disown you  _ twenty-four times,  _ so that was me taking out my frustration on him.”

XY blinks and frowns. It takes him a moment to realize Viperion’s annoyance is directed at his father, not him anymore. “So, you… you did that for me?”

Viperion flinches in surprise. “For…  _ no,  _ I didn’t do that for you, I did it for  _ me.” _

XY tips his head. That isn’t how he understands it. Why would Snake Boy even care what XY’s father said about him? “Well, for the record, I think you’re pretty cool.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, XY reaches up to feel out his hairstyle as a distraction from the awkward compliment he just uttered. The plume is drooping, which is frustrating, especially now. He wishes he looked just as cool as Viperion, but he’s spent the last fifteen minutes freaking out and nearly crying while clinging to Snake Boy like a baby monkey. So much for ‘cool.’ He blows out a puff of air in disgust at himself.

Viperion opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

“No one’s ever done that before.” XY crosses his arms and scowls in the direction of his own concert banner hanging not far from where they’re standing. “No one’s ever gotten revenge for me before.”

“I told you, it wasn’t  _ for you.” _ Viperion rolls his eyes. “I was angry, and I didn’t think it was going to stick. You know, be permanent.”

“Okaaay, whatever you say,” XY doesn’t quite understand what Viperion is talking about. It just sounds like ‘denial’ to him. “Anyway, I bet you’re feeling pretty lucky right now.”

“Lucky?” Viperion’s eyes narrow in confusion. “Why lucky?”

“Oh, y’know, it’s not every day you get to carry someone as famous as me.” XY tosses his head, but his hair lacks its usual spring. He combs it back with his fingers. Not his style, but he rocks the shaggy look, too. At least now he’s found his higher ground.

“I wouldn’t have expected  _ you _ to bring up how I had to carry you around while you sniveled and held on to me like a baby,” Viperion snaps.

“Meh.” XY puts on a blasé look. “I bet you enjoyed it.”

“I did not!” Viperion looks mildly disgusted, then horrified. “Wait, did  _ you?” _

XY shrugs. “It was better than dying.”

“Should’ve just left you there.” Viperion’s eyes flick down to XY’s chest. His expression shifts as he looks up again, as if he’s considering something.

XY follows Viperion’s gaze. “Hey, were you checking me out?”

Viperion makes a retching noise. “Of course not!”

“If you were, I wouldn’t blame you,” XY says, puffing out his chest more.

“Eugh, disgusting,” Viperion mutters. “I was going to say, I  _ did  _ save your life, so technically, you owe me.”

“Oh?” XY raises an eyebrow. “I guess I do. So, what do you want? Free tickets to my next concert? A signed photo? A swim in my private pool?”

“A swim in your—” Viperion shakes his head, clutching his temples.

“What? Who wouldn’t want that?”

“Have you  _ forgotten  _ that there’s something you’re supposed to return to us?” Viperion’s olive-green eyes bore into XY’s.

XY knows he’s obviously talking about the fox necklace, but he has no intention of handing it over, so he plays dumb. “What do you mean? I don’t have anything like that.”

Viperion points. “Right there, on your chest.”

With a gasp of mock offense, XY lifts the diamond-encrusted monogram necklace with his thumb. “This is mine! It has my name on it.”

“You  _ know  _ I’m not talking about that one.” Viperion sounds unamused.

XY decides to drop the pretenses. “Look, I need it, okay?”

Viperion lets out a long-suffering sigh. “No, you don’t. It’s meant to be used to protect the public from Hawkmoth, but all it’s doing is endangering people  _ and you. _ You’re abusing it as a publicity stunt!”

“Yeah, well, at least people like it, and I’m not hurting anyone, am I?” XY argues. “Besides, if I give it up, Dad’ll just decide he doesn’t need me anymore. He has the program and the holograms, everything he needs to make money off me. If I’m not useful. I’ll just be in the way and he’ll ship me off to my aunt and uncle.”

Viperion’s brow lowers. “That’s despicable. He actually said all that?”

XY stays silent. This wasn’t supposed to be about family issues.

“Hey, how old are you?” Viperion asks, changing the topic.

“Why? Checking if I’m old enough to date?” XY smirks.

“Don’t be so full of yourself,” Viperion huffs. “Just answer the question.”

“Eighteen,” XY answers, feeling satisfied that he seems to have thrown Viperion off from going after the miraculous.

“So you’re an adult!” Viperion exclaims. “Why do you care what your father thinks? Why don’t you just do your own thing?”

XY has to think about it for a moment. He’s  _ always  _ just done what his father asks without questioning it. “He’s my producer. If he doesn’t like what I make, I’m screwed.”

Viperion doesn’t seem happy with this answer. “There are other record companies, and you could make it on your own. You’re famous enough—you don’t need your father’s label. Why don’t you write your own music instead of stealing other people’s?”

_ This again? Why do people care so much about originality? _ XY sees no point in wasting the effort. “You remind me of that Luke loser kid from Cat Division or whatever.”

Viperion looks taken aback, and XY can’t fathom why.

“Well,” Viperion says, “maybe  _ Luka from Kitty Section _ —”

“Whoa,” XY interrupts, shocked that a famous superhero knows a nobody like that Blue Loser. “You’ve actually  _ heard  _ of him?”

Viperion rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time. “I’m a superhero. We know things. Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted, maybe  _ Luka  _ has a point. Maybe you should listen to him.”

“Uh uh.” XY shakes his head. “No way. Blue Loser isn’t even a serious musician.”

“Blue—?!” Viperion scowls. “What kind of idiotic insult is that? I just told you his name. So use it.”

“Fine.” XY crosses his arms. “Blueka.”

Viperion lets out a short, annoyed breath. “Okay, fine, whatever, have your fun. Anyway, allow me to remind you that I  _ saved your life today  _ and dared to slap your father for you. If you have even a pinch of gratitude in you, ask Luka Couffaine for help in writing an  _ original  _ song.”

XY’s face brightens. “So you admit that you did it  _ for me.” _

Viperion covers his eyes, shaking head. “Believe whatever you want to believe. So, are you going to ask him, or… ?”

XY considers. He  _ does  _ like Viperion, in spite of the fact that the superhero doesn’t seem to like him very much. He’s pretty sure that’s just an act, anyway. It has to mean  _ something  _ that he protected him and stood up for him, right? Plus, why wouldn’t he like him? XY shrugs. He has no real reason to refuse. “Okay, fine.”

Viperion nods. “Okay.”

There’s a momentary silence, and a beeping sound makes itself known. XY realizes it’s been going off all this time, but neither of them paid it much attention.

“Hey, can you turn off your alarm clock?” he suggests.

Viperion scoffs as if XY has told a joke. “Well. Not that that’s settled, I’m leaving.” He turns and crouches, ready to leap away.

“Hey, wait!” XY cries.

Viperion looks over his shoulder. “Yes?”

XY gestures at the surroundings. They’re still on a roof. “Can you get me down from here?”

“Right.” Grumbling, Viperion comes back and reluctantly slips an arm under XY’s armpits. He lets out a resigned sigh, crouches, and scoops up the other boy’s knees in a bridal carry.

XY smiles—in a cool, smug way. It’s the first time he’s ever been held like this since he was about five, and he finds that he quite enjoys it.

The distance to the ground is not far, and too soon, Viperion practically dumps him on the ground.

“Thanks,” XY says, a little gruffly for the rude treatment.

“Just doing my duty.” With a twisted smile, Viperion salutes and bounds away.

Left alone, XY combs his fingers through his hair and rubs his chin, feeling strangely irritated at Viperion’s abrupt departure. He could’ve at least escorted him home or something instead of dumping him in the middle of a random street.

He really needs to get his hair fixed. It was a little weird how easily Snake Boy dropped the topic of the miraculous, but XY isn’t too surprised. He’s pretty good at getting away with things.

Speaking of the miraculous, though… 

“Balls, I need to find some snacks before this thing dies on me,” XY mutters, pulling out his GPS to figure out where the hell he is.

—

**pace urself:** @v-major scale dude have you seen the pics

**v-major scale:** pics? what pics???

**pace urself:** babyface’s instagram

**schrodinger’s chat:** Oooh, Viperion, looks like you have a fan

**polka dots:** pff looks like he wrote that with a sharpie

**pace urself:** right? that’s what my girl said

**v-major scale:** ughhh i feel like i’m being libeled

**queenie b:** hey, no one’s ever worn a shirt with  _ my  _ name on it before

**v-major scale:** i’ll make him a shirt with your name on it just so he’ll take THAT one off

**queenie b:** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**v-major scale:** NOT WHAT I MEANT

**schrodinger’s chat:** Aww Viperion, he likes you! He’s probably just happy you saved him

**v-major scale:** ;lsdjafkad

**polka dots:** i’m ASSUMING you have a plan, viperion.

**v-major scale:** of course   
**v-major scale:** you’ll see

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you thought! See you next chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> (i don't know what i'm doing, please send help)


End file.
